Castle Walls and Iron Bars
by Cat'sLibrary
Summary: (Female Zuko) Months after the end of the war Ozai is visited by his daughter Zura. He reminisces over the day she was born and uses his words to cut her like knives.


**This was demanding to be written and wouldn't leave me alone until it was. Zuko is a girl in this so if that pisses you off don't read this. I spent way too much time trying decide upon a name before finally settling on Zura because it still has four letters and starts with 'Zu' like Zuko and it sounds kind of similar to Ursa.**

Ozai sat in the corner of his cell on top of his sleeping mat. His gaze was downcast as his mind wandered. It had been six months, two week, and four days since his...defeat. Even just thinking the word left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He hated being a prisoner. He had been the ruler of the Fire Nation and soon the world. He had been the most powerful fire bender. He had been feared and respected. Now he was trapped in a four by six cell. There was nothing where his inner fire once had been. None of the guards were intimidated by him. They were all benders and well trained. They were confident that if by some chance he got past the iron bars of his cell that they would have no trouble subduing him. They thought he was weak. It was humiliating. His first born daughter thought it an act of mercy to leave him with his life, but Ozai would rather of died on the battlefield than be left in this cell to rot.

The sound of the door opening caught his attention. It was not time for him to receive one of his meals or for the cell to be cleaned so it had to be his oldest daughter Zura come for a visit. She was the only visitor he ever received, not that she came to see him that much. It had been two months and five days since he had last seen her. "Leave us," Zura told the guard.

"Yes, your majesty," the guard bowed his head as he pulled the door shut. Zura walked so that she was standing in front of the bars of his cell.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Fire Lord," Ozai snarled the title like it was a curse. He hated seeing her in the attire of the Fire Lord, the red and black robes and the golden flame headpiece. His failure daughter was not fit for rule. He wanted her to suffer for stealing his throne. He hoped the pressures of ruling crushed her.

"I thought you might be interested in knowing that I found Mom. She's moved into the palace along with her new husband and their daughter," Zura replied with a soft smile.

"So the traitor found herself a new family? I'm surprised she came back with you, but then, I suppose it is understandable. There are some very nice perks to living in the palace after all," Ozai mused.

"She came back because she's my mother," Zura's voice had hardened. Ozai snorted, Zura's eyes narrowed. "Mother loves me. She always has," she stated, the smile still in place, but it seemed less soft and more forced now.

"Maybe she did before she had a daughter with a man she actually loves. You are my daughter and nothing will ever change that. It's true that you take more after your mother but I've...left my own mark," his voice was smooth like liquid poison. "To make it so that every time she looks at you she'll remember me," the corners of his mouth tilted up as he saw Zura stiffen.

"You're wrong," she growled, tilting her head so that the scarred side of her face was no longer visible.

"Am I?" he smirked. His daughter's jaw tightened and her hands formed fists. For a moment Ozai thought she was going to completely loose her composure, but then she took a couple deeps breaths and relaxed. She looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Yes, you are," she stated her voice soft and controlled. She started to leave but before she could Ozai spoke again.

"I remember the day you were born," he commented.

"What about it?" his failure daughter asked cautiously.

"You were so small," Ozai replied. The chains around his wrists rattled as he moved. Zura unconsciously shifted her weight so that she was poised to fight off an attack. He held up his hand, flat with his palm facing the ceiling. "Your head was no larger than my hand."

_Ozai looked down at the baby girl cradled in his arms. It was the dead of night. Moonlight shone through the glass doors leading to the balcony of the fifth story bedroom. The mid-wife was tending to Ursa. It had been a long and difficult birth. His wife had gone into labor early, and there had been fear that the baby would not make it. "The child will grow to be strong," the mid-wife reassured._

"_There's no spark in her eyes," Ozai stated, his hand pressed around the back of the baby's head, holding it still as he studied her eyes. Ursa and the mid-wife were silent for a moment, their expressions worried._

"_Don't worry about it, my dear. She is our daughter, our first born. Let us celebrate," Ursa smiled as she reached towards her husband and child._

"_What is there to celebrate about? Our child is weak. She barely survived coming into this world, and she may never bend," Ozai stated ignoring Ursa's outstretched hand._

_A deep frown etched into his face as he looked down at the child and her sparkless eyes. This was to be his heiress, this frail, piteous creature. Ozai turned away from his wife and the mid-wife. He opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony. "Ozai?" Ursa asked. He looked down at the baby with distaste as she gurgled and reached for him. Born in the dead of night, a non-bender, her only use would be as a doll to be given to some noble to enact good will between their families. He stood at the railing of the balcony his daughter held precariously in his arms._

"_Ozai, what are you doing?" Ursa demanded as she struggled to get up, still worn out after the difficult birth._

"_A non-bender for a firstborn, how shameful," Ozai replied. It was a long drop to the rocks at the bottom of the castle walls. It would likely be a fatal fall even for an adult._

"_We don't know that for sure. She may still bend," Ursa tried to sooth him as she stood in the doorway leading to the balcony, but there was an undercurrent of fear in her voice.  
_

"_There is no room for weakness in the royal line!" he shouted, shaking the baby as he did so. She started to wail._

"_She is our daughter!" Ursa shouted back as she lunged forward and grabbed onto her husband's arm before he could drop their child. "She will be strong," she stated her eyes boring into his. Ozai snorted and shoved the baby into her mother's arms._

"_Pray you are right," he snarled, a threat in his words, before stalking past the terrified mid-wife and out of the room._

Ozai looked at his daughter, now seventeen and the Fire Lord. She was standing tall - shoulders squared, head held high - but he knew that this confidence was but a mask. "I should of crushed your skull when I had the chance!" he roared violently tightening his hand into a fist as his voice echoed around the chamber. Zura flinched and Ozai smirked. Her masks had always been made of porcelain. Even trapped behind these bars he could still make them shatter.


End file.
